


Grace and Soul

by Zetal (Rodinia)



Series: SPN Fluff Bingo [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Nephilim!Sam, References to Torture, Sam and Wings, Sam's Powers, Self Harm, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 14:00:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13719189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rodinia/pseuds/Zetal
Summary: Sam Winchester, the Boy with the Angel Blood.  So as it turns out, giving a human angel blood when they're already not *entirely* human from lifelong demon blood in the system?  A bigger deal than anyone ever thought.Sam's life has gotten a LOT more complicated.





	Grace and Soul

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyShadowphyre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyShadowphyre/gifts).



> For the story of how Sam became the Boy with the Angel Blood, read [this and the following two chapters](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8406175/chapters/19262461).
> 
> Written for SPN Fluff Bingo  
> Square: Wing Fic
> 
> [Smut prompt 17](https://rodiniaorzetalthepenquin.tumblr.com/post/169364068411/drabble-list): "Oh my God, do that again!"

Fuck. No. This was not happening. Dean was not lying in a puddle of his own blood, and Sam was not faced with the choice of helping his brother or tracking down the assclown that shot him. He’d made the mistake of going for vengeance once, so he dropped to his knees in the puddle of blood beside his brother and reached out to touch him, to reassure himself that his brother was alive and still breathing and he could still save him through normal measures, no drastic sell-your-soul things.

Dean was alive. Cas could fix this. He opened his mouth to call for Castiel when Dean suddenly sat up, color restored to his face, eyes blinking as he shook his head quickly. “Thanks Cas… wait. Where’d Cas go?”

“He’s… not here? I was just about to call him… what happened? You’re okay? How are you okay?” Sam reached out and touched Dean’s belly where seconds ago there had been an open bullet wound.

Dean touched the former wound as well, staring up at Sam. “I don’t know, man. It felt like when Cas heals us up. I just assumed it was Cas healing me up. Call him anyway to see if he can figure this out?”

Once again, Sam didn’t quite get to the stage of saying anything before he was interrupted, this time by the arrival of Castiel. “What happened? I was on my way here when Michael sent an urgent summons, one that I couldn’t ignore. He said that there’s a situation we can’t ignore anymore and I need to bring Sam to Heaven – and he does realize that means bringing you, too, Dean.” Castiel tilted his head. “What happened to your shirt?”

“I got shot, that’s what happened!” Dean gestured to the blood on his and Sam’s clothes. “What do you think happened?”

Castiel reached out and touched Dean, then turned to Sam, wonder in his eyes. “I think I know why Michael wants me to bring the two of you to Heaven. Take my hand.”

“What, you can’t just zap us?” Dean said.

Castiel gave him a flat look. “Of course I could. I just like having Sam holding my hand.”

 

Up in Heaven, Michael was pacing. “Sam. How are you feeling? Is being here overwhelming? Should we go to the human part of Heaven?”

“Huh? No, I’m fine, as long as we don’t get a flood of angels in here. You and Cas are okay. What’s going on?”

“You know you’ve always had latent powers, that for a time you used demon blood to power up. That let you control demons, or even kill them.”

“Yeah, but I haven’t used them lately.”

“Haven’t you? There was a Reaper preparing to go argue with a bullheaded Winchester again when suddenly her services were no longer needed.”

“Look, I know my powers tend to go supercharged when I need them to save Dean, but I’m pretty sure I can’t bring someone back from the dead.”

“No, but Dean wasn’t dead yet. You were in time to save him with just normal healing. Dean’s lucky – as is the world, honestly, you two tend to get a little nuts and try to tear it all down when one of you dies – but it means we can’t just sit back and watch anymore. You may not have the parentage, but Raphael and a few others have been asking what, functionally, is the difference between you and a Nephilim. The laws are clear on what we do with those.”

Castiel moved to stand between Michael and Sam, one wing wrapped around his boyfriend and the other out like a shield. “You are not taking Sam Winchester. I won’t let you.”

“There are a couple of Nephilim on Earth, whose existence we pretend to be ignorant of, because their angel parent did a good job of teaching their child when and how and why to use their powers and when to blend in and appear to be human. You don’t have an angel parent to teach you, but you do have Castiel and a track record. As a hunter, you’ll have more temptation to use your powers, but you’ll also have more good excuses. We can’t feign ignorance, but we can say that you deserve a chance to prove that you can be responsible. I just wanted to make sure you knew that we would be watching you, and that if you step out of line, Raphael will pounce on the excuse.”

“Sorry, but if Dean’s in danger, I’m going to save him however I can. So if you’re going to smite me for that, you might as well just do it now.”

“To the best of my knowledge, this wasn’t a test someone up here set up, but I’m taking it as one anyway. You had choices, and you chose healing over vengeance. We know that saving Dean is your priority, and self defense has always been recognized as a legitimate reason for a Nephilim to use their powers. Be careful, maybe try to practice so it’s not just bursting out of you in the heat of the moment, do whatever you want to demons, and pray you and Castiel never break up, because it would be awkward to have your ex-boyfriend in charge of keeping you leashed.”

 

Castiel was a better teacher than Ruby, always encouraging Sam to try to use his powers as they were without reaching for grace or soul to fuel it unless he needed to – except that the very first thing Castiel taught Sam was how to sense and tap into both his grace and his soul. “It’s best to use your powers as they are. Less chance of Raphael deciding you’re too powerful or you hurting yourself by drawing too much power too quickly. That said, if you do need the extra power, it’s best to know how to do it and do it deliberately. Less likely to cause damage.”

Sam preferred drawing on the grace. For one thing, it felt cleaner; despite the purging of the demon blood and Castiel’s repeated assurances that his soul was fine, Sam could still feel the taint of sulfur in it. Castiel swore it was all Sam’s imagination, and other angels backed him up when Castiel invited them down to teach Sam something specific, but imagination or not, it still felt that way.

Today, Sam and Castiel were practicing healing, with the help of Ephraim. Dean had volunteered as guinea pig, getting puppy eyes from Sam. “Are you sure about this, Dean? I mean, cuts and bruises are fine, but what if they’re wanting to go with things like gunshot wounds or even, like, missing fingers?”

“Alastair took thirty years to break me, and he wasn’t exactly fixing me up in between. I think I can take it.”

Castiel nodded. “Dean, your offer is appreciated. If something’s too much for you, let me know and we can use my vessel. I can shut down my own powers to let Sam do the work, and I’m the only one in here, there’s no human in distress.”

“Sam would…”

Sam rolled his eyes and glared at Dean. “I’m going to be in distress seeing you hurt, too, jerk. If you want to help, help, but don’t put yourself through something triggering or beyond your limits over this.”

Ephraim cleared his throat. “I was thinking that we could practice on people who are already injured. A few small things here so that Sam can get the feeling, but for anything more than a deep cut, find a hospital. No need to injure someone on purpose, even if I can heal it.”

They’d started small, Dean cutting himself with one of their knives or having Castiel hit him hard enough to bruise. After the worst injury, where Dean had driven a knife through his hand and Sam had needed to tap into his soul to fix it, Ephraim nodded. “I think we’re good. Dean, thank you for your service. Sam, do you want to keep going now, or have me come back tomorrow to find a hospital?”

“Probably ask you to come back tomorrow, my back’s feeling kind of… odd. Itchy.”

Ephraim squinted. “That’s… take off your shirts and turn around.”

“Uh, okay…” Sam did as instructed after a quick glance at Castiel, who nodded. Ephraim reached a hand up, not touching Sam but hovering over his back. “What’s up?”

“I thought this might be it. Castiel, you know what to do for him?”

Castiel’s mouth fell open as he came around to look. “Wow. That’s… they’re beautiful.”

“What’s beautiful? What’s happening to my brother?” Dean snarled.

Castiel reached out and touched Sam’s back, causing Sam to gasp at the shockwave of pleasure that flowed through him. "Oh my god, do that again!" 

Castiel complied readily, much to Dean's disgust. “The people who call Sam a Nephilim are closer to right than I’d given them credit for. Sam’s growing wings.” He pulled his hand back. “Soul wings, even. Those are rare, even among Nephilim. Usually they’re a manifestation of grace.”

Sam craned his neck, trying to see. “What’s the difference?”

“The functionality is the same, but soul wings are safe for you to manifest around humans. You can show Dean if you want to.” He looked to Ephraim. “I know how to teach Sam to take care of them.”

“Good. Sam, pray when you’re ready for more. It’s probably best if you sit out for a while to allow your wings to grow in properly first. I need to report this to Michael anyway.”

Once Ephraim was gone, Sam wanted to show off his wings to Dean. “How do I manifest them?”

“It will be easier once you’ve seen them. For now, let me…” Castiel put a hand on each wing. “Concentrate on what you’re feeling, on making them solid and real.”

“Bit hard when it’s feeling that good,” Sam said, but he did as instructed.

“Gross, in front of me? Really?” Dean grumbled, but then he gasped. “Whoa! Dude, you have wings! They’re small, but… whoa!”

Sam craned his neck again, but he still couldn’t see anything. “Yeah? What do they look like?”

“At the moment, they’re… hang on, I can’t describe this.” Dean got his phone and took a picture to show Sam. Sam looked. His wings were super fluffy, full of downy grey feathers. “Like a baby bird, bro. But you can tell they’re gonna be gigantic, just like you, and powerful.”

“Everyone’s wings are grey at first,” Castiel said. “Once the down falls out and your mature feathers grow in, they’ll likely be another color.”

“Any way to guess which one?”

“No… if you develop a halo, it’s likely to be some shade of blue, because your grace comes from me and therefore you belong to Michael, but on the other hand, as Lucifer’s true vessel, red would also be likely. Wings are a reflection of the individual angel or Nephilim and the only prediction I could make is to ask what your favorite color is.”

 

Despite the warning that he would molt off the down, it still freaked Sam out the day he woke up to find his bed covered in grey feathers. He manifested his wings – now big enough that he could see them over his shoulder – and stared at the vivid pale green feathers covering them. That was not what he had expected. He’d been thinking some kind of blue or purple. These were beautiful, but he couldn’t help the association he made.

Castiel wasn’t surprised at all. “I should have guessed.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Soul wings, of course they would be a color you associate with your soulmate. May I help you in brushing off the rest of the down?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I let you?”

“Grooming an angel’s wings is just as much a gesture of trust and respect and intimacy as sex among humans, only without the complication of reproduction or sexuality limiting things. Therefore, it’s polite to ask.”

“So you’re the only one I should let help me?”

“No. Like I said, sex isn’t the greatest comparison, because of the reproduction and the evolutionary baggage it brings with it. There’s no reason to limit yourself to a single ‘mate’, and there’s even less reason not to allow Dean to help you. I would suggest finding some other way of explaining why consent is important to Dean, though.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Sam laughed at the look on Imaginary Dean’s face. “Of course, he remembers the way I reacted the first time you touched them, so damage may be done.”

 

By the end of the week, Sam’s wings were fully grown. Dean thought they were beautiful, although he’d been very weirded out by the likely reason for their color and Sam and Castiel’s attempt to explain why touching them was a big deal and he should make sure Sam was okay with it before doing it. Thankfully, he’d gotten over it quickly.

Sam had to shut his eyes against the brilliant emerald light that flooded the room, and he reached out for Dean to ground himself. Raphael felt like a hurricane, threatening to sweep him off his feet and smash him into whatever was closest. “Can you… dial it back? You’re a bit much for me.”

“A bit much? Heaven is all stirred up, you’ve caused great havoc, there was a plan and things were going perfectly smoothly but then you just had to go and mess with things! All of this could be over, paradise on Earth for a thousand years, but you just couldn’t play your part. And now, we’re suffering a Nephilim to live, wreaking even more havoc! You should be destroyed, sent out into the Empty, and Castiel retrained by Naomi until he knows how to behave himself like a proper soldier of God. How dare…”

Sam would swear it wasn’t deliberate, and the fact that he couldn’t see and could barely stand on his own would back him up, but he crossed the room to Raphael. “Relax.” His arms and wings wrapped around Raphael, and Raphael went silent. The hurricane calmed – the winds were still strong, but the fury and destruction were no longer there. “What havoc am I wreaking, Raphael? Michael made it very clear that if I started wreaking havoc, he’d step in and stop me, so why do you have such a problem with me? Because I didn’t raise Lucifer like I was ‘supposed’ to?”

“It could all be over. No more mess, no more looking after Father’s pets just because he can’t be bothered anymore.”

Sam held Raphael tighter. “We do a pretty good job looking after ourselves these days. Why don’t you step back and let Gabriel handle Earth? He’s got a pretty good handle on things.”

“I…”

“Raphael.” The only way Sam could describe the feeling of the new angel was “steel”. “Raphael, Michael sent me to bring you back. Stop harassing Castiel’s Nephilim and come home.”

“Why? Why are we tolerating…?”

“Surprised though most of us are, we’re tolerating him because he’s using his powers responsibly or not at all, just like the others we tolerate. We’re tolerating him because Castiel has him under control. We’re tolerating him because Michael is convinced that those won’t change. Unless Father comes home and tells us otherwise, there’s no reason to destroy him. Look at him. Powerful enough to calm even an archangel – and gentle enough to do it through a hug instead of by force. He’s no danger to the world. He’s a protector. Michael was hesitant, but he’s laying claim now. Sam is family. Look at his wings. If you have any doubts about his nature, look at his wings. He’s no more inherently violent than most angels, and Earth is his home, he’s not going to break it.” The wind disappeared, and Sam cautiously opened his eyes. The other angel smiled at him through the pink halo. “Hi. I’m Naomi. Hopefully, you’ll never have to deal with me. Thanks for calming Raphael down. We’ll try to keep him away from you.” Then she was gone.

Castiel arrived almost immediately. "Raphael and Naomi were blocking me. Are you all right? Do I need to go throw another tantrum?"

"No... although Naomi said Michael's claiming me and I'm family now? What does that mean?"

Castiel's eyes got huge, and he hugged Sam. "It means that you're officially welcomed into the Host. Only a very few Nephilim are given that honor, and most of those were killed in the war against Lucifer or sided against Heaven when the Nephilim on Earth were drowned."


End file.
